


It Creeps Up In You

by laschatzi



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark Emma, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 08:03:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5040526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laschatzi/pseuds/laschatzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle of the darkness Vs. the light inside Emma, described by the darkness' POV. What Killian's "I loved you" really meant. Will Emma understand it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Creeps Up In You

Darkness is a funny thing. It creeps up in you.

Normally, the darkness settles in quickly. Normally. Because normally, it's welcomed with open arms, desired even, sucked up on purpose into an eager vessel. But not this time, not with this woman. This... savior. 

First of all, she was reluctant to let it in, defiant almost. Normally, they come looking for it, greedy for the nearly infinite power it brings. They summon it, hoping to be deemed worthy. But, honestly, the darkness has never been picky. It doesn't need a worthy vessel, it just needs a puppet. Oh, of course it's easier – and way more fun – when the host is not only docile, but develops a villainous energy of their own. Most of them do, and she is on her best way, too.

But the darkness has to admire her gumption – she tethered it to herself in an act of sacrifice, and she believed in all seriousness, that the others, the ones she thought she was saving, would be able to pull her back from the abyss, to drive the darkness out again. What a presumptuous thought! As if any human being would ever be able to do something as profane as simply drive the darkness out, pry a doomed soul from its cruel, bony fingers. No one has ever been able to, although there have been attempts, usually by desperate family members, and the darkness always quickly got rid of them. Like a few centuries ago, when it saw to the cripple's lad being sent off to another world. But they must know – she must know – that no one can ever discomfit the evil entity older than time. When the darkness entered her, she was full of light, full of joy and love and trust, all of which not exactly traits the vessels are usually blessed with. Normally, it's the forlorn soul, full of fear, of long suppressed anger and hate, tainted with selfishness, envy and greed, that turns to the darkness as if it's... a savior. Irony is everywhere.

She had been forlorn for quite some time, the darkness knew that when it entered her. But ultimately, she'd found happiness in life, a home, love – she'd been lost, but she'd found herself. Not the ideal candidate. But the darkness always loves a challenge – it was eager to take her, to break her.

At first, she ran. Claimed she needed to get to Merlin – him of all people – because he'd be able to help her get rid of the darkness. Swore she'd never embrace it. Refused its alluring suggestion to use her new powers once, twice... but soon, she faltered and used them; always with the excuse, of course, that she did it only to reach her aim faster. And then, suddenly, she held the redhead's heart in her hand, had ripped it out on an impulse. She was about to crush it, and the darkness could already taste the sweet flavor of triumph on its scaly tongue.

But then, out of nowhere, those people from her home appeared – her family, her friends – and immediately started to try and pull her back. Oh, vain efforts, of course, but still annoying. The darkness loved a challenge – what it did not love were humans trying to meddle, to interfere. It focused on keeping the Savior in line – and it almost succeeded. Of course, she claimed that it was for the greater good, that she had to do it for the sake of saving everybody she loved, that she had no choice... oh, the darkness loved it. That was what they always said, after all: I had no choice. I had to do it. There was no other way. Except, there always was. They always had a choice. Free will was still something the darkness could not command. But they always fell for its blandishments, welcomed the easy excuse, so eager to let themselves be talked into doing all sorts of horrible things. The road to the abyss was paved with hushed murmurs of I had no choice and good intentions, the flagstones crushing the tiny sprouts of free will.

The darkness felt strong, invincible even, because those with the best intentions usually fell the fastest, and her fingers tightened around the beating heart in a vicious grip. Its own claws were scraping at the edges of her soul, convinced to find purchase soon... but then it lost the grip when the man interfered, confused her, made her determination falter. Smart enough, he didn't let the mother use the dagger but urged the swan with the greying feathers to act by her free will, to do the right thing, reminding her of who she truly was – well, had been. And then, the first defeat when she roughly pushed the redhead's heart back into her chest, throwing herself at him. The moment his arms enveloped her in a close embrace, the darkness lost her. The connection was broken – of course, it was only momentarily, but it was still a massive annoyance. It was the same when she hugged the boy – the darkness lost the bit of control over her.

The pirate – it was the pirate. One look had been enough, and the darkness knew it wouldn't be that easy to pull her in completely. The pirate had been its foe for three centuries – and all he'd ever done when confronted with it was to laugh in its face. He'd never shown fear or any willingness to get corrupted in any other way. He'd even stabbed its former vessel with his goddamn hook, twice, although a flick of the cripple's wrist would have been enough to kill him. The pirate was not afraid of death, and that made him unpredictable and dangerous.

But the darkness was patient, knowing that time would work against him and the others who were desperately trying to keep the Savior on her “right way”, to keep her mind off the darkness, occupy her with their feeble efforts to find some magical solution. Pathetic. The darkness stood back and watched, secretly amused by the naive belief of the Savior that, with the help of her loved ones, she'd be able to defeat it. Stupid girl, didn't know she didn't stand a chance. Wasn't aware that every angry thought – and she was harboring plenty, unnoticed by the others – led her one step closer to succumbing to the darkness, to accepting who she was now. And the Queen, now in possession of the dagger, was stupid enough to fuel that fire within the Savior by abusing it against her and in addition taunting her. She should know better than to taunt the Dark One, really. It was only a question of time, of course, before the Dark One would have to get her hands on the dagger so that no one could control her with it – but the Queen's misdeed made sure to motivate the Dark One sooner rather than later. 

The darkness just grinned at her quietly sometimes; sometimes it whispered to her, urged her on, encouraged her. Whenever she was with her lad – the son of that other lad, the cripple's lad, the darkness remembered; again: irony – or the pirate, she managed to close off her mind, her soul... her heart. Both the pirate and the boy were the anchors that kept her in the light, shielded her against the madness and whispering voices – sometimes with a tender touch of their hand, sometimes with a reassuring word, a warm smile. And her heart was very strong, surprisingly strong for a heart having been treated so poorly for years. It was almost like her heart had some special protection. Not strong enough for the darkness, mind you.

Because, in a crucial moment, she couldn't resist and used her magic to save someone's life. Of course out of the noblest reason, or so she thought. She didn't realize that using her powers was addictive, and with every time she did it, she was sealing her fate. The darkness laughed at her feeble attempt to end it all by lunging at the pirate, trying True Love's Kiss. Of course it couldn't work; she was already too far gone. In fact, she had been too far gone the moment she'd used her powers for the first time to suit her purposes, whatever noble or “good” those purposes were. Good intentions. The first flagstone on her road to ruin. Nevertheless, after saving the man's life, she was still in the state of denial – still claiming that she didn't enjoy having those powers.

But day by day, the hold of the darkness on her grew stronger, and soon she couldn't get its constantly whispering voices out of her head; it was ever-present, blurring her vision, crawling under her skin, staining her soul. Like a parasite with barbs, it dug into her flesh, anchoring there, invading. Not even the presence of the pirate could make it fade anymore, and when she sneaked into the Queen's chamber to get what was rightfully hers, she almost killed him with her magic. Unintentionally, of course (and the darkness was a little miffed at how unimpressed he was, again). But the point was, she used her enormous powers to attack, even if it was only some chimera in her mind. Another flagstone. From that moment on, it became harder and harder, almost impossible for her to free her mind from the darkness. The pirate managed to postpone her demise a little when he took her on a ridiculous ride; but the adrenaline and happy excitement that made her heart race could keep the darkness out of her heart and the vision of it out of her head only for a bit of time. She tried desperately to chase it away with more heart racing and more adrenaline, and soon a ride on a horseback wasn't enough anymore. In the end, she couldn't make the vision go away at all, not even when she was in the arms of the man she loved.

And love him she did – in the limited, selfish way a Dark One was capable of loving. The darkness was fine with it and didn't try to talk her out of it. If she wanted him to keep her content, why shouldn't she have him – the Dark One could have anything she wanted; that was the point of being the Dark One, after all. And who knew, maybe he could even be used for further purposes. It was a little annoying, though, that even if she had accepted her new role by now, whenever she was with the pirate or thought of him, there was still that little, purely human part inside of her that wanted nothing but to be loved. The darkness didn't like that, because it was obvious that he was still trying to make her go back, even though he was angry with her for obviously having embraced her new role. He made clear that he was not going to accept it, that he was the love who refused to give up on her. Until the day he did. 

She arranged a meeting on his ship, because she needed something from him – but then she made the mistake to try and soothe his qualms with an all too see-through ruse by trying to recreate some romantic moment between them. Dark One lies, Dark One tricks. Who would know better than the pirate, and she wasn't cunning enough yet. Around him, she was still vulnerable, even if she was better now, a far better version of herself. He turned the tables and demanded answers. No one demanded anything from the Dark One. Again, she offered him the easy way and tried to lull him, to lure him in, but then he got angry and told her she was not the same person anymore. Which was basically right, even if she didn't see it that way. And once more, her silly vulnerability broke through when she, even if she had already what she needed from him, asked him if he loved her. It was a naive attempt to force him to stay by her side where she wanted him – she hadn't expected him to turn her down, but that was exactly what he did when he looked at her with eyes as blue and shiny as steel and said: “I loved you.”

Past tense. And then he stepped back, away from her like he had done once before, a long time ago, when he'd told her that he was done with her. Except, this time, it was for real. She was the Dark One, the mightiest, most powerful creature in any realm, but in this one tiny, fleeting moment she was twelve years old again, savoring once more the bitter taste of rejection. The lost little girl who didn't matter and didn't think she ever would. He'd pushed her back, denying her his love, and that tiny part of her that still wanted to be saved somehow, that still grasped at the edge of the abyss, desperately trying to hold on – it just let go and tumbled down, further down. I don't intend to let you down. I will never stop fighting for us. Words. The last person she ever had expected to had turned is back on her.

It took her only a few instants, and by the time she had reappeared in her house with the white picket fence, in her secret cellar, she had composed herself again. Her pain replaced by anger. The darkness sensed that she wasn't completely over it, over him yet; but the last scrapes of her resistance were crumbling, the last flicker of humanness fading away. The last roots of hope withering like that stupid rose should have been by now, the feeble remnants of light in her about to be snuffed out completely.

And now the darkness knows it's about to win, to win her over completely. She is still stumbling, but she will fall. Hook, line and sinker – pun intended. It's only a question of days, minutes – heartbeats, maybe. 

And the darkness waits.

And it's weird, because that flicker of light, dim as it is, shouldn't be there anymore. It doesn't make sense, because there's nothing, no one left tying her to her old life. Her parents are paralyzed, her boy has turned his back on her to encourage his adoptive mother, the Queen, to be the new Savior. Emma Swan stands alone. And the pirate does not love her. Isn't she aware of that? He rejected her. I loved you. Past tense. He looked at the lost little girl and was heartless enough to say...

But suddenly, the darkness feels an icy pang of fear stab its own old, rotten heart, when it understands what the pirate's words mean, what they really mean: it is thwarted. And the pirate had predicted it a long time ago: The only help I'll give you is with your demise.

Yes, he looked at the lost little girl when he said “I loved you.” His words were directed at her. But not the lost little girl had asked, the Dark One had. And the Dark One had been rejected, because the pirate doesn't love the Dark One. But that lost little girl... she was loved. She has been enough. The pirate doesn't love the improved, the better version of her – he loved the old one: flawed, scarred and scared, walls and all. Just the way she was. She was enough. And the lost little girl has never been enough, except for him. And she still is.

That was what he really said. It was the opposite of rejection. And after he's planted the seed, after her whirlwind of emotions has calmed down a bit, giving her subconscious the chance to perceive the message, the realization slowly starts to dawn on her, to settle. The seed is deeply buried, but it's there. And that's the reason for that dim flicker of light in her withering heart, and hasn't it just started to flicker the tiniest bit more brightly?

The darkness shivers. I will never stop fighting for us. The lost little girl, the real Emma Swan – he still loves her. And she's about to understand that now.

And if the darkness knows one thing for sure, then that love is a powerful weapon, the strongest magic of them all, and combined with one other thing it's the most dangerous adversary darkness could ever have. And that other ingredient is hope. A little bit is enough, a dim flicker will suffice. Because, well, hope...

...hope is a funny thing.


End file.
